


A Second to a Century

by isitnotfantastic



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex needs a hug, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Death, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Humor, I tried to be somewhat historically accurate, Multi, Pretty much just angst in the first chapter, Suicide, he'll get plenty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isitnotfantastic/pseuds/isitnotfantastic
Summary: Time is like supply and demand; the more time you have, the less a second is valued. A second in a century is very little sure, but a second that you don't have can be valued as a century. Sometimes centuries blur together. Other times you can feel each second pass by. Some people can afford to waste time, others are dictated by it.
Or, a soulmate AU where everyone has a timer that counts down days until they meet their soulmate(s). Once they meet their soulmate(s), they get a new timer that counts down days until they die. The thing is, only their soulmates are able to see the new timer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to Crystal for giving me motivation to write this. Shoutout to Gabi for betaing and helping me write.
> 
> This fic will be full of humor and fluff, it is just angsty atm. I promise the fluff and humor will pick up in chapter 2. This 1st chapter is pretty much and intro but should still be read.
> 
> !Trigger Warning for Chapter 1!

_Time is like supply and demand; the more time you have, the less a second is valued. A second in a century is very little sure, but a second that you don't have can be valued as a century. Sometimes centuries blur together. Other times you can feel each second pass by. Some people can afford to waste time, others are dictated by it._

______________

 

Alex had stared at the numbers for a while before asking his mother what it meant. It had been the night before his 7th birthday. He was in bed, waiting for sleep to come. Then he had felt it. The closest Alexander had ever come to describing it was an like electric shock that coursed through his arm. A buzz that crescendoed into fire underneath his skin. He nearly bit through his lip to keep from calling out. The feeling couldn't of lasted more than a second but the pain was prolonged for a century.In reality it had happened in an instant, and then the pain was gone. He looked at his arm. He had expected, well he actually didn't know what to expect. Definitely not what he would see. Black marking had appeared on his wrist. As he looked he recognized three numbers stacked on top of eachother. The numbers _4116 days_ was on his wrist in a plain font. Below it was another _4116 days_ and then a _4117 days. Huh._ He searched his brain for any sort of idea as to what it meant. Death dates perhaps. He wracked his mind for quite some time before he went to his mother. He was frustrated not being to figure things out on his own and did not want to disturb his mother. However he was not content without a solid answer so he gently knocked on his mother's door.

“Mama,” he whispered softly. No response. Alexander, lacking patience, gave a shout the neighbors could hear. "MAMA" A moment later the door opened.

“What’s wrong, Alexander?” his mother softly inquired. He hesitated for a moment before displaying his arm for his mother to see. It took her a moment to focus in her half awake state but a smile slowly crept upon her face.

“Oh, mijo,” his mom began, “these numbers are very special numbers. These numbers will countdown the number of days until you meet your soulmates.” _Soulmates?_ Well that was certainly not what he expected. He had always heard of someone meeting their soulmate. Never _soulmates._ He had a level of emotional understanding that was above his age but he was still too young to truly comprehend the importance. Than a thought came to him and he looked at his mother’s wrist. It was absent of any sort of number; all that could be seen was a black line. No time.

“Why doesn't your wrist have it Mama?” His mother's smile faltered. Her expression was perplex. Hints of regret and longing

“Once you find your soulmate, in your case soulmates, you… Uhm… well, you get a new timer” she answered.

“What’s does the new timer count down till?” The topic of death was not favorable to discuss with her son at such a young age but if not now when would she.

“It counts down the days your soulmate has left to live. Only your soulmate can see how many days you have left, and only you can see how many days your soulmate has left. Once your soulmate, runs out of time, the numbers go away and leaves a black line where it once was.” _Oh._ It was a bit cruel when you truly think about it. It leaves as your soulmate does and is replaced by a constant remind of their absence 

“So your soulmate died?”

“Long ago I’m afraid.”

“But Dad is still alive,”

“Yeah;” she replied warily, “Dad is still alive.” Alexander didn't understand what that meant at the time.

He found out a few years later. Not long after he turned 10 his father left to never come back.

That was the beginning of a downward spiral of tragedy for Alex. No more than a couple of years later he and his mother fell horribly ill. Both of them were suffering terribly, but Alex was more sick than his mother. Looking back on it, he wonders how he survived and how his mother didn't. They had attempted to sleep; Alex coughed and cried.

“Shhh, my love it'll be alright, it's only a matter of time.” _Time,_ he thought. What a concept.

“I love you Mama.” A tear rolled down his mother's face.

“I love you too, Alexander. Come here” His mother held him in a tight embrace. She looked him in the eyes. “I promise it will be okay; you're going to live you're gonna change this world. One day everyone will know your name.”

Alexander nodded.

“You're gonna live too, Mama. They'll remember the both us,”

His mom knew what was to come but could not bring herself to tell him. So she offers what she can “I will, I promise.”

He fell into a fitful sleep his mother's arms. The next morning was when young Alexander learned not to trust a promise. Because when woke up the next day; his mother did not. He had sobbed until someone came in and took him out of his mother’s arms. He barely could believe it was real _She promised._

Than his cousin committed suicide, Alex decided that there was no one in the world for him. Everytime he looked down at his wrist, the time decreased; so did his hope. He accepted could easily end up without his soulmates like his mother. He was predestined to be alone. _Time would tell._

Time had started to fade together for him. The same cruel joke day in and day out. Everyday seemed to be worse than the next. Maybe he had died and this was a personal hell. He thought it couldn't get worse.

But of course, it did.

When he was, 17? -He had stopped paying attention at this point- a hurricane came and wiped out his town. Water flooded the streets, carrying broken lives with it. At this point, Alex had very little concept of time. Rather a second or century passed; he couldn't tell. ‘ _Time_ . _Everything in my life has been controlled by time,’_ he thought bitterly.  He was tempted to just give in to it all. To just swim down and let himself be consumed. Except he couldn't seem to die. He had a world change. So he did what he knew he could he could do best. He wrote, he wrote until someone had listened. Maybe he was destined to live a life alone. Maybe he couldn't control what grasp time had on him, but he could control what he did with his life. He had a promise to live up to. He had to be remembered when his time was up. As he was writing, time didn't seem to matter at all.

People noticed. They read his writing and knew, just as well as him, that he was going to make a change. “A kid with this amount of brains shouldn't go without an education.”

He finally had a shot.

His life finally got better; before he knew it, he was on a plane heading for New York. A full scholarship to Columbia. He glancing at his wrist he saw, _2 days, 2 days, 3 days._ He had been given a chance, and he would be damned if he threw it away.

 

______________

 

John Laurens should have a fantastic life. His family has more than enough money, he lived on an estate, and had both parents and siblings. But then, things changed.

His mother passed away giving birth to his youngest sibling, John had only been 16 at the time. His mother's death seemed to change everything. Don't get him wrong, his dad had always been a bit strict and a bit uncompassionate, but once his mom died it all took a terrible turn. It was as if his dad’s heart froze over. He started coming home drunk more often than sober, and started hitting John. John knew he couldn't tell anyone because it would ruin his dad's political career and further destroy his family. So John took the blows to protect his siblings. For a good amount of time, it continued that way.

John Laurens was now on his way to college; he drove out of South Carolina, and hoped to never see it again. He didn't want to be there and his father didn't want him to be there either.

“I’ll pay for your schooling, study what you want. Seeing as you are already a disgrace to the family, there isn't a way you can make it much worse. Hopefully you can finally live up to the Laurens family name.” His father kept a tone so harsh, it could belittle any man. Any man who wasn't used to it at least. John had just nodded and walked away knowing that this was the most preferable situation. They both got away from each other, and John went to his dream school.

One month later he has his car packed with his clothes, supplies, a few dorm essentials, a couple of pictures, an ungodly amount of posters, his turtle Anthony, and is driving up to New York. He looks down at his wrist _2 days, 2 days, and 3 days._ He smiles. Soon enough, it will all be worth it.

 

______________

 

Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Montier, Marquis de Lafayette, had grown up on a farm. Though he had been raised with the grace of someone who was raised in a castle. Technically he had been born in a castle, but no one needs to know that. He had only been able to speak French until he was 8. He had developed a strong interest with The United States at that age. One of his closest friends, Adrienne, had moved there with her family. He loved France, but he had dreamed of experiencing more than just the country. With the help of his aunt, Lafayette had begun to learn English. He picked up the language rather quickly.  When he was about 13 years old he met someone who lived in America online, who helped him learn some slang. His name was John Laurens. He still talked to him today, just less. They were still pretty good friends. He knew that he could do great things in America. He always wanted to study abroad.

Now he was packing to go to Columbia College. He knew this is what he was destined to do; everyday that got closer to his flight, the numbers on his wrist still continued to drop. He stared down at his wrist. It had _3 days_ , written 3 times.

With an obsessive amount of clothes, big hopes, and a promise to call his family everyday, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Montier de Lafayette got on the plane to America.

 

______________

 

Hercules Mulligan had always been a happy child. He practically came out of the womb smiling. He had a certain light behind his eyes that one could only call joy. He was a very clever kid. Hell, by the time he was 5 he could of robbed you blind without anyone noticing. He was 6 when, he, his older brother, mom and dad, all immigrated from Ireland to America.

Truth be told, Hercules didn’t really miss Ireland. He loved his new home in New York.

It was here where Hercules picked up many new talents. Emphasis on _many._ Hercules, could, sew, knit, tailor, repair technology, and do ballet. Now while most people would find this cool, it wasn’t exactly masculine. So naturally he didn’t fit in much. As he got older he got ~~hotter~~ cooler. He grew into his wide frame and tried out of couple of sports. Hercules lived up to his name physically. He had broad shoulders, and muscles that were apparent even without flexing. Taking up football at the suggestion of his peers (and ignoring the protest of his dance teachers). His career was short lived after injuring his ankle. However that didn’t stop him from getting back into dance.

In highschool his talents became more and more noticed. By senior year he had practically every college wanting him. He only wanted one college though. He wanted to go to Columbia. Of course, he had been accepted.

Hercules would drive to Columbia University tomorrow. It wasn’t much of a drive from where he lived, only about two or three hours. He looked down at his wrist and smiled. _1 day, 1 day, and 2 days._ He couldn’t wait.

 

______________

 

Alex was finally here. Columbia University. He had been on campus for about an hour before punching someone. The bursar had coming to be quite honest. Nothing was gonna ruin this day for him though. Today was the day he meet two of his soulmates.

 

It was around 2:00 pm when he had finally gotten to his dorm. He didn’t really have much to set up. He put his books and journals (the majority of his belongings) on the small desk. He then unpacked the few clothes he had. He covered his bed with his blue comforters, and layed down on with a sigh. He looked at his wrist.The top number read _3 minutes._ His heart rate picked up. He went into the bathroom to try and fix himself. His hair was long and tangled and be had bags under his eyes. He sighed. He could only try to fix one of those things. So he combed through his hair and then sat down anxiously on his bed. A second seemed to turn into a century. He was lost in waiting, when the door had burst open. Standing there was a teen about his age. Frankly, Alex was offended by how tall he was. Alex himself stood at about 5’7. The person in front of him stood at a least 6’2 and had a blue headband wrapped around his forehead. He was _ripped_ . He had an impossibly bright smile and dark skin. _Fuck._ Alex thought. _I am way too gay for this._


	2. Sorry

I'm sorry I have pretty much abandoned this piece. I assume most of the previous audience had lost interest by now. However, I will be spending time rewriting what I already have and hopefully creating new content. If you are still interested I will continue to update this story and I promise the writing will be much better than before. But if what I suspect is true and the interest for this work is gone than I will delete it and continue to work privately and hopefully finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware Columbia doesnt allow turtles but you can pry John Lauren's and his turtle obsession out of my cold dead hands.
> 
> Also this chapter doesn't have much on Hercules' childhood but thats cus little is known about it. 
> 
> Please leave feedback and Kudos :) Also i thrive off comments.


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